Up Against a Cold Castle Wall
by NeverNik
Summary: Hermione feels safe against the wall. Scary things are happening in the centre of the Heads' Common Room. Winner of 2018's Hermione's Haven Award for Best Series. Part 2 of the Show and Tell series.
1. Chapter 1

Up against a cold, castle wall. Nowhere to go. A madman slowly advancing towards me, with a curled lip and maniac gleam.

Not my idea of a pleasant Saturday evening, if you ask me.

My heart was pounding so hard, my fingers became thumbs and when I scrabbled for my wand, the fiendish monster quickly accio'ed it and flung it behind him.

Well, _shit._

With each step he took, my fright levels soared. He was stronger than me, and had magic on his side. If he reached me, Merlin alone knows what he'd do. Did I not have any weapon available to me at all? A loose rock in the wall behind me, maybe? Always worked for Nancy Drew…

Keeping my eyes on him, I started digging into the mortar that held this castle's ancient stones together. Funny, you'd think it would be magic that did that…

For Merlin's sake, Hermione, concentrate!

Come on, come on…

Abruptly, the monster stopped its slow stalk.

Leaned against the kitchenette's table and sighed, rolling his eyes.

'What's up with the wand, Granger?' Malfoy asked wearily. 'Don't you know it's rude to brandish your wand at a person, if not for the purposes of attacking?'

'I'm defending myself from certain attack!' I retorted. Good. I _retorted_. Not showing that I'm the slightest bit terrified. At all.

Malfoy spread out his arms. No wand clinging to the end of either one. Even turned out his pockets. Unless he's come up with a way to make his wand invisible…

'Almost-certain attack,' I amended.

'Granger, I'm not going to attack you.' In fact, Malfoy had crossed his arms and was contemplating the ceiling. Then his stunning silver eyes returned to me and began a slow inspection of my body –

 _Stunning silver eyes_? What the hell is wrong with me?

Harry and Ron said it would happen one day. At the time, I gave their opinion the attention it deserved. But it appears they were right. Obviously I have crammed so much knowledge into my head that I've caused permanent damage to my brain, to whit, the part that should be giving me appropriate guidance as to what 'good' looks like when it comes to boys.

Are eighteen year-olds called boys or men?

'Granger! Get your head out of wherever it's gone to and listen to me. Please.'

His 'please' was late, but not even I could argue it was merely tacked on as an afterthought.

'Can I stop looking for a weapon to defend myself with?' I asked suspiciously.

His lips quirked in a brief, beautiful grin. 'Yes, Granger, you can stop looking for something to kill me with. Not that you'd succeed.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Oh, yeah.'

Funny how two words have completely different meanings, depending on where you emphasise.

'Wanna bet?' I asked.

 _Crap_. Two of the stupidest words ever to say to a Malfoy came tumbling out of my mouth.

Malfoy smiled. Regretfully.

'Another time,' he replied. 'Now, would you like to make yourself comfortable, or would you prefer to continue holding up the wall?'

I considered. 'Wall,' I decided.

'Suit yourself.'

Silence.

More silence.

Even more silence.

This is stupid. 'I thought you said you had something to say,' I said impatiently.

He sighed and ran both hands through his hair. 'It's not easy talking to you, sometimes.'

'Really? All these years you've called me rude names, said hurtful things about my teeth, my hair, and – '

'As I said. It's not easy talking to you.' His eyes glittered.

Hmph. Clever dick.

'Well, how about I get you started?' I snapped. 'Here's a nice, gentle question for you to warm up with. What in the name of Merlin were you doing, stalking me like a mange-ridden werewolf that hasn't had it in months when I just got in a few minutes ago?'

Malfoy looked offended. 'I don't look like I have mange!' he sputtered.

Trust him to only get offended about _that._

Well, I suppose he has a right to be. I'd be blind and delusional if I said there are other boys better-looking than Draco Malfoy. Because there aren't. Simple. Sure, years ago he was a pale, skinny ten-pound weakling, but sometime over the years when I was doing my best to ignore him, he went and bloody well grew up, didn't he?

On our first day back at school last September, having been informed that as newly-appointed Head Boy and Head Girl, we'd not only have to (shudder) co-operate with each other in the school's best interests, but we'd also have to freaking _live_ together in the Heads' dorm, you can forgive me if I didn't immediately notice how tall he'd gotten. And how well his Quidditch uniform looked on him. And how toned his arms were when he wore t-shirts.

And how he'd given up slicking back his platinum hair (which just made him look like a creepy miniature version of his old man) and now had one of those 'casual' hairstyles that look like you just got out of bed, but in reality you spent forty-five minutes applying product and swearing at the bathroom mirror to get the look perfect. Malfoy's hairstyle is: how it looks when he gets out of the shower.

I swear, I don't know what he looks like when he gets out of the shower! I don't! I haven't looked! It's just… I can hear the water in the bathroom stop running. Between then and the time he comes bounding, or slouching, down the stairs (with his clothes on, need I point out?) to the common room, there's simply no time for hair-play.

Ha.

Wish that were true for me.

Don't get me wrong. My hair's much more manageable these days. It's just that there's so much of it! Lately I've been experimenting with up-dos. Today, for example, for our trip to Hogsmeade, I wore my hair in a French twist. Upon Ginny's advice (and she's always right) I also wore gold hoop earrings. So everyone knows I have ears. Well, obviously I do, but no-one sees them. Because hair.

Wow. I really do get side-tracked, don't I?

Back to Malfoy, who, eerily, was waiting for me to return to the present.

He cleared his throat. 'Well, aside from the fact that I obviously do not look like I have mange' –

I waved my hand in a 'get on with it' motion –

\- 'I didn't see you this morning when you left for Hogsmeade.'

'Yeah. And?'

'And I had a Quidditch game, so I couldn't go into Hogsmeade with the others.'

'Yeah. And?'

' _And_ , I was tired after the match, which we won, thanks for asking, so I didn't go into Hogsmeade with the other players.'

'Yeah. And?'

'Stop saying that!' Malfoy flung his arms into the air and shoved a nearby chair away from him. It made an unpleasant screech along the floor. I hate that noise. My whole body broke out in goosebumps. They washed over me like a wave.

'I've got no idea what the hell you're talking about, Malfoy!' I did some arm flinging of my own. 'What does you not going into Hogsmeade have to do with scaring the living daylights out of me?'

'Look at what you're wearing!' Malfoy hollered.

Silence.

OMG.

Did he just say…?

He did!

Just look at him. His chest is heaving and his fists are clenched. His face is a picture of rage.

'Damn it!' He clutched his head at his temples and spun on his heels, striding angrily to the settee. Which he promptly kicked.

Then he turned and looked at me, still clinging to the wall and totally flabbergasted.

Softly, he said: 'I wasn't supposed to tell you that way.'

* * *

'Hermione.'

His voice was measured. His breathing was calmer. He held out a hand, and I saw a look on his face that I'd never seen before. On any other person I'd say it was regret.

I've never made him lose his temper before. Even after seven years. All the taunting, back-biting, insults, even battles – he'd always kept this sneer permanently cemented on his face. Usually followed by a derisive laugh and a look down his nose.

So, I'd never seen a passionate Malfoy before. Not that it's something I want to see. Not in this way. My mind (the brain-damaged part, obviously) wondered what it would be like to be in bed with him, what he'd look like when he moved inside you. When he came. When he made you come.

Why would I think Malfoy was the type that made sure his bed partner enjoyed herself? He's one of the most selfish people on the planet.

Also, from my experience (Ron), let's just say that the woman's pleasure comes a distant second to the bloke getting his end off.

What am I doing? This is no time to think about sex!

Not when he's standing right in front of me!

He spoke again. 'Hermione, I'm sorry.'

The wall moved under my hands.

I swear it did.

The great Draco Malfoy apologised, _without_ being forced, to ugly old Mudblood Granger.

I'd never had vertigo before. If this is what I'm experiencing, it's not very nice, I can tell you.

He sighed. 'I'm going to take the advantage of you being temporarily speechless and tell you what I've been trying to get the courage to say for a long time.

'You're beautiful. That was what I meant to say before. Look at you.'

This time, those words were said so softly I only just caught them.

'Malfoy,' I whispered. I can't help myself. I talk. Sue me. 'I'm only showing my knees and a shoulder.'

He smiled. Not smirked. Smiled. 'Then I'll tell you what I see. You're wearing soft, suede ankle boots with a narrow heel. The heel gives shape to your bare legs… makes them look even longer than they already are.

'You're wearing an oversized jumper that falls to the middle of your thighs. At first glance, it looks like you're not wearing anything underneath, but when you move, I see that you're wearing a tapered black mini-skirt. Sexy, and practicable. Quintessentially you.'

Is it getting hot in here? Why are my cheeks burning?

Malfoy continued, his eyes never leaving mine.

'The jumper's large, but it clings to the shape of your breasts. It slides down your shoulder, baring it and the strap of your bra. The dark copper colour brings out the warm tone of your skin.'

Oh, dear God.

He wasn't done.

He stepped closer. 'With your hair up, your graceful neck is exposed. Has anyone ever kissed you on the pulse of your throat, then put their tongue to it? Do you know how that feels?'

My lips opened, but no sound came out. I looked away.

'Hermione.' His voice was low, hypnotic. 'I want you to know how it feels.'

No. I can't look. This isn't real. I'm just having a very intense, erotic dream.

Footsteps moved away. Feeling oddly lonely, I looked back at him. He was leaning against the table with his arms crossed. Looking at the ground. Unsure.

Another first. An unsure Malfoy. His ancestors must be spinning out of control in their crypt.

'Malfoy.' My voice cracked. Happens when I'm silent for too long. 'What you said was…'

He tensed.

… 'beautiful.'

He looked up, and all I saw was his silver eyes.

Yet I wasn't going to make it _that_ easy for him.

'How can I trust what you say now, when for seven years we've fought like cats and dogs? We've both said horrible things to each other.'

He acknowledged. 'You want the short explanation or the long explanation?'

I considered. Do you know how sexy a man's collarbones are, peeking out of his shirt? I know, right? Not sexy. So you can see what state of mind I'm in.

'Short, please.'

He smirked. But this time, it was cute. 'Okay. The condensed, condensed, version is: I was raised to hate Muggles. Then I met you. You were hard to hate. So I had to do more to make myself hate you. Later, I accepted that what I'd been raised to believe was wrong. And that I could be honest about my feelings for you. But I was worried that too much damage had been done. You had every right to hate me. So I put space between us. Well, I tried to.' He rubbed the back of his neck. 'It's hard to stay away from you. Especially when we're in the same dorm. Also, you're quite intimidating.'

Intimidating? I'll file that away for later.

'So,' I said, 'what makes you think I'm interested in you?'

Now Malfoy really smiled. 'Shall we test it?'

I quickly retreated back to nervousness and the comfort of my wall. 'What do you want to do?'

'Can I fuck you up against the wall?'

'Too soon, Malfoy.'

He laughed and threw me a heart-breaking grin. 'Kidding.'

He unbuttoned his shirt. One button at a time. Not taking his eyes off me.

That man owns the colour black. It's like the colour was invented just for him.

When he got to the end of the buttons, he opened his shirt and drew it over his shoulders and arms.

My hand went to my mouth.

He had the most beautiful upper body. Honestly. Twenty out of ten. He was muscular and toned. I itched to move my hands over the contours of his biceps and pecs. The ridges of his abdomen showed, just as he was standing and breathing normally. (Unlike Ron, who had to suck in his breath. Just saying).

He undid his belt with one hand, eyes not moving from mine.

When he undid the top button of his jeans, I stopped breathing.

He left it there, and the jeans settled lower on his hips.

I think I whimpered.

He raised an amused eyebrow.

His lateral muscles tapered in at his hips. A line of fine blonde hair started below his navel and traced down, to an area still concealed by his jeans. He was erect. Not that I could see it, but its outline was prominent.

It was a big outline.

'Hermione?'

What? Oh! Am I interested in him?

I'd been touching my lips with my fingers, tracing them. Imagining his mouth on mine. I closed my eyes and licked my dry lips, catching my lower lip with my teeth. He muttered a slightly strangled oath.

I opened my eyes. 'Don't you dare hurt me, Draco Malfoy.'

'I promise,' he whispered.

I stepped away from the wall.

He met me in the middle of the room. He brushed away a tear that I hadn't known I'd cried, took my upturned face in his hands, and forever sealed our fates.


	2. Chapter 2

So, dear reader, or – dare I say it – readers?

What happened next?

We kissed, and fucked on the common room floor like rabbits.

The End.

…

….

…..

Oh, dear God, no. Hermione Jean Granger has standards, thank you very much! How would I look the house-elves in the eye when they next came to clean?

Here's what actually happened:

* * *

To my utter disgust, I shook like a leaf before he touched me. I had a feeling this would be one of the few memories I'd retain when I was decrepit and senile, I so wanted it to be good.

I think Malfoy - Draco - felt the same way. He had this aura of restrained energy around him. He held my face like it was the most precious, fragile thing he owned. Showing yet another side to him that I'd never seen. Or failed to look for.

Remember one of the final lines of _The Princess Bride?_

' _Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.'_

Ever since I heard those lines, I've dreamt that someone would kiss me the way Westley kissed Buttercup. Which, I presumed, did not involve rubbery lips and slobbering tongues. No, I wasn't French-kissed by a confused St Bernard. I was referring to Ron.

But when Draco kissed me, every other kiss was left behind.

He kissed my top lip. Then he drew my bottom lip between his and gently tugged. He smiled when I felt along his mouth with mine.

His tongue followed the same path – top lip, lower lip. I joined him, and giggled when our tongues met at some point on our journeys. He smiled again, and pulled away slightly, looking me right in the eye.

To see if I was all right.

'Hermio – mph!'

I raised up on my tiptoes and kissed him hard. Opening my lips, my heart thumped when he did the same and we felt the heat of each other's mouths. Our tongues explored, kissing each other with increasing fire.

Tasting. Testing. Taking.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close until there was no space between us at all. My arms moved around his waist and my hands splayed across his bare back. I could feel his muscles move as he touched me.

He felt warm and hard beneath his skin. I wondered how my body felt to him. When a stiff wind could cajole an erection out of the average teenage boy, it didn't do to work on the assumption that I might be the sole source of Draco's current situation.

I shifted against him, wanting to climb into his skin. A muffled oath escaped, and he withdrew his mouth slowly from mine. Then he pulled me into a hug.

My head lay against his chest. I listened to his heart. Phew, it was going fast. On a ninety-year old it would have foreshadowed the old coot's impending demise. On Draco…

This was his reaction to me.

I did this to him.

* * *

With unspoken agreement, we kissed our way to the bedroom stairs. I sat on the second step from the bottom. He knelt on the floor, leaning over me. We shared a slow, sultry kiss.

I slowly pulled away with a come-hither smile, and shifted up a step. He grinned and followed. Our lips met.

It took an hour to reach the landing.

* * *

Outside his bedroom door.

Reality interceded like a very unpleasant ice cube meandering down my back (many of them courtesy of Draco, once upon a time).

Over the year, the path between the portrait hole and his bedroom had been worn shiny smooth with the feet of many girls. I'd hear them giggling and cooing over him when they were in the common room from the somewhat sanctuary of my bedroom. Then silence, as they snogged. Then the hurried footsteps up to his bedroom.

Fortunately, if he knew I was home, he had enough manners to silence his bedroom. Some of those bints were screamers.

How do I know?

Occasionally, Ron and I would enter the common room when Draco and Miss Whoever were already going hard at it. Honestly. Where do you look when some bird's moaning 'Oh my God, Draco, give it to me hard! Yeah, like that… Merlin, you're such a good fuck omigod omigod omigod I'm gonna come omigod DRACO!'

Would you believe this got Ron excited? We did it loudly, once, in my bedroom, at his insistence. Every gasp or groan he made seemed put-on and amplified, as if he was trying to prove to Draco and Whoever that he could make realistic animal noises, too.

When he hollered at the top of his voice that I was his 'dirty, skanking slut' as he prematurely splattered all over my stomach, I stood up, wiped myself clean, took him by the ear and threw him out of the dorm.

But I digress.

Draco noticed that I was finding my boots terribly fascinating. With one hand on the door next to my ear, he gently lifted my chin up with a finger… to find me nibbling my bottom lip.

'We don't have to do this now. I'm happy to wait until you feel it's right.'

Draco Malfoy. Total git to considerate lover from zero to one thousand.

I considered.

Damn it to hell to back, I think I've wanted him for Merlin knows how long. Even when I hated his glorious guts. Even (to my shame) when I was trying to be what Ron wanted me to be. I opened my mouth, but he beat me to it.

'We can just sleep. I'd love to just hold you. Wake up to you.'

I was on the edge of an abyss.

I reached for the door knob and turned it. Looked up at him. His face showed so clearly, but so briefly, his reaction –

And I fell.

* * *

Standing together in his room. Surrounded by green silk and silver. He pulled the pins from my hair, one by one, and my curls fell from their confines.

Dang, those hair pins are itchy.

I shook my hair wildly as Draco laughed. Eventually I flicked my hair back over my shoulders, self-consciously trying to pat it into submission. He put his hands on mine.

'Your hair is you, love,' he said, amused. 'It's beautiful when it's restrained. It's beautiful loose and wild – '

'Well, it certainly seems to have a life of its own,' I grumbled.

'Cut it and I'll spank you', he threatened.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He caught it with his lips, and we smiled in each other's embrace.

His thumb brushed my bare shoulder, and the intimacy made me tremble. He placed his lips on my shoulder and gently bit, licking the spot with his tongue.

God, I hate soaking wet panties. Don't you?

He traced a path from my shoulder to my neck. Kiss. Bite Lick. Kiss. Bite. Lick. Kiss –

'Oh!'

He found my pulse.

Words, noises, tumbled from my mouth.

He gathered my jumper in his hands, and slowly drew it up over my body. I put a hand over his, stopping his progress.

That was a disappointed man I saw beneath my lashes.

I raised his hand, inspecting it. It was calloused from years of Quidditch play. A stubborn ink stain hatched across his index finger. When I pressed my thumb into the centre of his hand, his fingers contracted, like a sea anemone does when something yummy and stupid has wafted into its trap.

I ran my thumb along his. The one that earlier brushed a tear from my cheek.

I brought it to my lips, swirled around it with my tongue, and pulled it into my mouth. Running my teeth along it, following with my tongue. Sucking. Staring up at him.

I think his knees actually buckled. He swore, a word I've never heard of. All the more intense for its emphasis.

I moved my lips and tongue along his thumb, up and down. Up and down.

Up and down.

'Hermione Granger,' he whispered. His jaw was clenched tight. 'Do you want to make me come from sucking my Merlin-forsaken thumb?'

I released his thumb from my mouth with a 'pop'.

'Yes,' I said. 'But not tonight.'

* * *

He removed my jumper after that. Rather hurriedly, in my opinion. Discarded on the floor, he stepped back and just…. ogled.

A speechless Malfoy. The world may possibly be approaching its end.

Then I remembered who I was. Hermione Granger. No simpering ninny, am I. I divested myself of my boots. Then I faced him square on, and pulled my bra slowly away from my body.

He put his hand to his mouth and walked a circle around his room. Found himself back where he started.

And did another circuit.

The silence grew to uncomfortable proportions. I let my hair tumble over my shoulder as I self-consciously made to cover my breasts. His hand shot out, and gently grabbed mine.

'Never hide your beautiful body from me,' he whispered with intensity.

He kissed me. So hard that I couldn't breathe and stars started floating in front of me. He stopped, and as I took a massive restorative breath, he scooped me up and laid me on his bed.

* * *

Clothes were removed.

Temperatures had risen.

He'd divested me of my drenched panties, thank the Lord above.

I'm not proud of what happened next.

* * *

He pulled his jeans down his legs, and his erect cock finally saw the light.

Oh, my Helen Keller.

'Big' is a paltry term to describe what he kept in his pants. It was long. It was thick. It was –

I leapt off his bed and dived for the door.

He grabbed me before I could escape, running like a lunatic along the corridors of Hogwarts, shrieking that the Second Coming was about to visit upon us.

'Hey', he said, with real worry in his voice. 'What's wrong?'

'Well,' I began. 'I'm really sorry to have to tell you, but we appear to have a wee little compatibility issue.'

'Huh?'

I pointed a shaking finger at his Goliath. 'There's no way on God's green earth that it will fit. I have evidence.'

Draco looked at me with a mix of desire, frustration and suspicion. It's quite an odd look, actually.

'What evidence?'

'Well, my previous partner was not so, er… blessed… as you are in the genitalia department, and he couldn't get very far at all.'

I don't recommend making such embarrassing confessions to someone when you're completely starkers.

He looked down at his John Thomas, then back at me. 'Love. I'm not obscenely large. We'll take things slow. It'll be okay.' He inched closer to me and drew me into his arms.

I relaxed into his embrace.

He laid me back down on his cool, silver-green duvet and plied kiss after gentle kiss on my face.

Then he pulled the duvet back, and invited me into his bed.

I snuggled down as he climbed into bed from the other side.

He reached an arm out to me, and I moved into him, resting my head on his shoulder and laying an arm around his waist. Listening to his heart.

We talked, and kissed, until we fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning has broken. Birds are tweeting. My hair has transformed into a rat's nest.

I opened an eye and contemplated the many strands of my runaway hair. Not for the first time, I bitched to myself how come I couldn't have sleek, beautiful hair –

Hang on a cotton-picking minute.

This ain't my bed.

Ain't my bedroom, either.

The green and silver everything that decorated this room had a definite Slytherin look to it.

And then, the penny dropped. From an enormous height.

* * *

I quietly rolled over so I faced Draco. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was even.

The devil made angel.

His lips curved upward. 'I know you're looking at me. Can't be helped. I'm just so damn gorgeous.'

And… the angel becomes a devil once more.

He drew me into his side, nuzzling my neck (once he pulled all my hair out of the way).

I thought I could get to like this.

But I suppose I should talk to Draco about… you know.

* * *

Draco scratched his head. 'Uh, so why don't you have sex very often?'

'Because…' I trailed off and looked away. 'I don't like to fa- ' I clear my throat. 'To fai-'

I've never said the 'f' word in my life.

'…to not succeed.'

Draco looked baffled. 'I know. I've been trying to top you, academically, for seven years. The more I try, the more you succeed.'

Huh. Was the secret of my academic success due, in part, to Draco's relentless pursuit? Merlin knows, I love a good contest.

'But what's that got to do with us?' he asked.

Here goes. I looked away again, but this time Draco yanked on my hair to bring me around. So I shut my eyes and blurted it all out.

'I'm not good at sex.'

Nothing.

I opened an eye and peeked at him.

He was staring at me with his mouth open. What do you know? No fillings. My parents would approve.

'Granger,' he said in a tone that indicated his temper was approaching tropical temperatures, 'last night you looked at me with those huge, beautiful eyes while you fellated my thumb. While you were fully clothed. I was five seconds away from coming in my jeans. No-one has ever done that me to me before. If you're bad at sex, then I'm Neville Longbottom.'

He is most decidedly _not_ Neville Longbottom.

'Where on earth did you get this stupid idea, anyway?'

I shrugged. Where else? 'Ron told me,' I said matter-of-factly.

Draco gently kissed my forehead, hopped out of bed, and pulled his jeans on.

I sat up, confused. 'Where are you going?'

'I'm just off to kill the Weasel. Won't be long.'

* * *

What?!

I leapt out bed like a gazelle that had an abrupt encounter with a porcupine, and grabbed hold of his leg as he opened the door.

'You can't kill him!' I shrieked. 'Someone might miss him.'

Draco leaned his forehead against the door. 'Granger, all the time you two were together I've been waiting for you to see sense and dump the stupid prick. I've heard him in your room. His voice, like his very presence, is as welcome and soothing as a million fingernails down a blackboard. He's obviously had no trouble getting his end off – '

That's true.

\- 'so if he can manage to have an orgasm but put you down at the same time, then he's nothing but a greedy little shit.' He looked down at me curiously, still wrapped around his leg. 'Did he ever make you come?'

I examined my fingernails. Ratty, tatty things.

'I see,' was his calm reply.

Then he wrenched the door open and dragged both himself and me onto the landing.

'Stop! This is my fault. I can fix it.' I don't want Draco to go to Azkaban for murder! I'll never get any sex that way.

Draco looked down at me, breathing hard. Because he was trying to keep his temper, not because I was a great big heffalump. Just thought I would point that out.

'I've been comparing you and Ron since you kissed me,' I muttered.

He looked revolted.

'And I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have let his ridiculous opinions and putdowns affect me, and I shouldn't have let my resulting lack of confidence come between us. I should have accepted your affection with an open mind and open arms.'

I let go of his leg.

'Please come back to bed,' I whispered.

'Don't look at me like that,' was his reply.

I batted my eyelashes innocently. 'What look?'

He snorted, then smirked. 'You know, you look pretty good down there, prostrate at my feet.'

'Look your fill. It's the last time you'll catch me doing something like this.'

He crouched down to me. 'How about we put both our pasts behind us?'

'Suits me.' I accepted the hand he held out.

* * *

'You know,' Draco mused between heat-charged kisses, 'it's not every day that a woman tries to bolt from my room at the sight of my dick.'

'It was just the shock,' I assured him. I raised the duvet a little, and took a peek underneath.

'I think I can handle it now.'

And so… I did.

I nearly let go of his cock when he sucked in a sharp breath. However, since he wasn't screaming in pain for me to let go, I ran my hand slowly up until I met the head, encountered the slick, warm fluid there, and gently rubbed it with my fingertips. Letting go, I brought those fingers to my mouth and slowly licked them.

He uttered a groan through a very clenched jaw.

In for a penny, in for a pound, say I. Pulling the sheets back, I trailed my hand down his beautiful torso, gripping the base of his cock again. I worked the shaft of his stone-hard cock as I licked my lips, prayed to God, and took the head of his cock into my mouth.

His hips torqued off the bed, forcing more of his flesh deeper into my mouth. I hoped he wasn't expecting a spectacular performance. But as I sucked on his delicious cock and let threads of my saliva fall onto the hand that steadily pumped the part of his cock I couldn't access with my mouth, I felt him gently pull my hair away from my face so he could watch me do my best to please him.

'Omigod,' he murmured. 'This is better than any fantasy I've ever had about you, Granger. And I have quite an imagination.'

I giggled (as much as I could with my mouth full) and the hum of my throat elicited an intense curse from him.

I sucked and pumped his cock until my hand started to tire. He sat up and pulled me gently away, laying me down next to him. His eyes gleamed.

'A+, Granger,' he murmured through a deep kiss.

Was I pleased? Hell yeah, I was pleased!

And then he disappeared.

Next thing, something grabbed my ankles and pulled me smartly to the end of the bed. Then those hands scissored my legs open. I was soaking wet from giving Draco the pleasure he wanted, and I felt the air cool the wet lips of my labia.

But not for long.

'Fuck!' I yelped when Draco slowly licked me from the back to the front of my pussy, latching onto my clitoris and twirling it around. He licked the same torturous path again.

'What the hell are you doing, you mad git?' I hollered.

He looked up at me, and I saw the bastard smirk. 'Shut up and enjoy it, woman,' was his sage advice, as he carefully brought me to the end of my tether by taking my clit into his mouth and enthusiastically sucking it… speeding up and slowing down with his tongue… penetrating my core with his stiffened tongue (oh Merlin, I loved that) … sliding a finger into body while tugging on my clit –

I think I had an orgasm.

Draco had to hold down my legs so I didn't bounce off the bed and fly away. I could hear the devious bastard laughing down there.

But it turned out I was wrong. And for once in my life, I was glad, glad, glad. Whatever _that_ was, it was just a precursor. As I found out as he added another long finger to the one already pistoning in and out of my soaking core. God, it felt so good. He felt so good.

Then, Merlin help me, he twisted those clever fingers and pressed a point inside me that I, let alone – um, anyone else – hadn't been able to find. I thought I was born without one.

The most intensive wave of heat ignited at his fingertips and whooshed through my body like wildfire. I could feel my entire body shaking. It was so intense I tried to shy away from my own body – until Draco held on more firmly to my legs. He was watching me in awe.

'That's it, love, come for me. Come for me, love – Merlin on a fucking pike, Granger!'

My sex clamped hard on his fingers and he literally couldn't remove them. I could hear screaming from a long way away – but it sounded like me. My body bowed off the bed and every single muscle tensed – then exploded into fire.

I fell back onto the bed, gasping for air, and pinpricks of light danced across my vision.

'Draco?' I whispered.

'Yes, love?'

'What the fuck just happened?'

He carefully climbed back into bed, and wrapped his arm around my waist. 'That, my beautiful Hermione, was an orgasm.'

I let that sink in. 'My legs are still trembling,' I noted. 'I don't think there's any strength left in them to ride you.'

I meant it as a joke (sort of), but Draco looked ominously serious.

I looked at him with suspicion. 'What?'

He ran his hands through his hair. There was a light sheen of sweat on his chest. He glittered.

Eventually, he looked at me and said 'When I had my fingers inside you, you felt very tight…' he trailed off.

I was confused. 'I thought that was supposed to be a good thing?'

'Oh, it is. I was as hard as a bone from the feel of your pussy around my fingers. It's just – ' he sighed and looked at me with regret. 'The last thing I want to do is hurt you. And I'm afraid I will.'

* * *

Oh, no.

Oh, hell no.

The school's most gorgeous sex machine does not lie next to me after making me come so hard I practically apparated, then tell me he's not going all the way.

I can resolve this. I'm smart. Smart people resolve things.

Observe.

* * *

'You don't want to hurt me.'

'Yeah. I'm really sorry.'

'I take it you mean you don't want to hurt me physically?'

'Please, love, don't make this any harder.'

Ha ha – good choice of words, mate.

I sat opposite him, leaning back and showing my breasts to full advantage.

'You think you'll hurt me with your long, hard cock… slowly pushing into my hot, wet pussy…' I looked up underneath my lashes. He was watching me the same way he watches Neville conduct a potions experiment. With great trepidation. Yet his hand surrounded his cock, stroking it slowly.

'But you'll hurt me, tremendously, if you pull the plug on what we have.' I brushed my fingers through the trim hairs of my still-wet sex. Then lightly rubbed a finger on my sensitive clit.

His eyes had darkened to slate. A pulse was beating in his neck. I wanted to bite it.

'We haven't tested out your hypothesis. I think it would be premature to consider drastic alternatives when we don't know if your theory is supportable or rejectable.'

He smiled dangerously. That's what I like about Draco. He picks things up quickly.

'There are hundreds of sexual positions that require investigation,' he said.

'I wouldn't know,' I said demurely. 'You'll have to show me.'

'I'm glad you sorted this out, Granger.' This was said just before he flattened me to the mattress and kissed me as if I was his only chance of survival.

* * *

He knelt over me, holding his cock. It glistened from the juices of my sex that he collected from dragging it up and down my labia. My breathing was shallow and uneven. Yeah, it might hurt. But God, I wanted this man.

He positioned the glistening head at my entrance, and took a deep breath. Then he leaned over me, looking me right in the eye.

'I love you,' he whispered. As I gasped in surprise, he moved his hips.

With every centimetre, every inch, he was right there above me. And yes, dear God, he was big. But the pleasure I wrought from his measured invasion far, far, outweighed the pain.

It was taking its toll on Draco. Sweat beaded his face and his arms were shaking.

'Love,' he muttered in a strained voice, 'I don't know how much longer –'

I hooked my legs around his hips and pulled him in.

Oh. Dear. God.

He filled every part of me. I felt luxuriant, I revelled in it. He was in my head, in my heart, and in my body. I looked up. He looked like he was having some sort of epiphany.

I licked a drop of sweat from his throat. He let out a mostly unmanly whimper.

'Draco,' I whispered. 'Fuck me. I won't break. You'll never hurt me.'

He kissed me, and started to move in and out of my tight, slick core.

With every scrape of his cock against my g-spot I moaned, louder and louder until it became a wail. I begged him to fuck to me harder, and while his head might have thought that wasn't a great idea, his other head thought it was, and he fucked me until I could feel him in every part of my body.

Now I knew what to expect, I was overjoyed to feel my body change and prepare for my orgasm. I didn't know what the signs of Draco's impending orgasm were, but I prepared to learn my arse off.

'Draco, you're gonna make me come,' I gritted out. 'You're gonna feel my cunt clamp around your beautiful cock' –

'Dear God, woman,' he moaned, slamming into me hard, his balls slapping against my skin.

'I want you to come inside me,' I whispered into his ear, taking his lobe between my teeth my teeth and sucking it. 'How's it gonna feel, spilling your come into my pussy as I wring every last drop from you?'

He was incoherent, and his thrusts were erratic. Was this it? I pinched my nipples, loving the pull as the orgasm built up in me.

We came.

I cried out his name, over and over, as my body centred on his cock and I came in waves and waves. Draco threw his head back and swore so loud that all the owls snoozing in the Owlery over shat themselves in fright and took off to hang out at Hagrid's.

* * *

It took a very long time for either of us to return to normal thinking and breathing states.

But there was one thing I had to ask.

Draco,' I started, propping myself up on an elbow.

'Yes, I meant it.' His eyes were still shut, but he was smiling.

'Oh. Well, good.'

He opened an eye and raised the accompanying eyebrow. 'And…?'

'Oh, all right, I love you too, you attention-seeking pillock!'

He chuckled. 'I knew that.'

'Argh!' I threw a pillow at him.

'Ta.' He caught it and put it under his head, pretending to sleep.

I went to punch him in his glorious ribbed abdomen, but somehow that wily Slytherin anticipated me and grabbed my wrist, with a gleam in his eye.

Uh-oh.

I backed away as fast as I could, but he was faster. Just before I could make a bolt for freedom he grabbed me, dragged my shrieking, protesting self to the middle of the bed, and tickled the living daylights out of me.

So, as a result of that tickle assault, it's Slytherin 1, Gryffindor 0.

But that will change. You'll see.

The End.


End file.
